Home
by Ashley Honeycutt
Summary: Short one shot between Arthur and Harry following the Battle of Hogwarts. Quick write without much editing, so please be kind! Just something I had been thinking of.


Harry searched the map and quickly, mercifully, found Arthur Weasley sitting more or less alone in the Great Hall. Days had gone by since the battle, and slowly but surely the castle had begun undergoing extensive repairs while people eventually went home in an attempt to regain some sense of normality. For the first time, Harry would be leaving the castle and would not be returning to Private Drive. Harry, in spite of his lonely upbringing, was not sure he was prepared to return to Grimmuald Place in solitude.

"Mr. Weasley? Could I speak with you for a moment?" Mr. Weasley looked as though the loss of a child and his close friends had aged him twenty years prematurely. Through the exhaustion that was now constantly present in his eyes, he smiled genuinely, if briefly, at Harry.

"Of course, Harry. What can I do for you?" Mr. Weasley moved slightly to the left, as though making room on the otherwise empty bench for Harry.

"I was just wondering, if it isn't too much trouble, would it be alright if I came back to the Burrow tomorrow with you?" Harry's question was met with a look a shock, and for a moment Harry wondered if he shouldn't have asked at all. Mr. Weasley paused for a moment, staring strangely at Harry. Suddenly, he turned away and looked directly in front of him before answering.

"You know, Molly and I raised seven children. Seven! Do you know what an incredible number of children that is?" Mr. Weasley shook his head and stared down at the table, looking weepy at the thought Fred. He continued on without giving Harry a chance to answer. "No, you couldn't. Not until you have children of your own could you realize how many children seven is. Molly's family in particular thought it was absolutely mad to have so many children, but it was what we wanted. I take great pride and joy in each of them," Mr. Weasley finally rose his gaze met Harry's eyes. For all the sadness that was clearly evident, Mr. Weasley seemed almost to beam at the thought of all his children's accomplishments and substantial, honorable qualities.

"In spite of all that though, seven was a firm limit. Seven we were happy with but even to us eight seemed to be too many. Admittedly, Ginny having been a girl made that decision a bit easier. But then, we met you. And you were so kind, so brave. And you lived with those awful muggles who didn't care about you. But Molly and I, we loved you. Suddenly, eight didn't seem like too many children. We wanted you, more than I think we even realized until we started asking questions about why we couldn't take you in. Surely the muggles wouldn't have put up a fight for you, not the way Molly and I were prepared to fight for you. Maybe we should have mentioned it to you, asked if you wanted to live with us at all. We didn't want to get your hopes up before finding out if it was even an option though. When you were 12, or maybe just turned 13, we found out that ultimately your living arrangements were overseen by Dumbledore, that's when we found out that you had to stay with your aunt and uncle. He was a brilliant man, Dumbledore. But you were so loved in our world, Harry. Molly and I loved you, Remus loved you, Sirius loved you. I wouldn't often question Albus Dumbledore, but sometimes I wonder if it was worth depriving you of all the people that loved you for so long," Mr. Weasley shook his head sadly, staring down at his hands again. "I suppose, in hindsight it's probably for the best given your relationship with my daughter," Harry fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat, remembering Mr. Weasley's uncanny ability to know more than he lets on regarding the lives of his children. Seemingly unaware of Harry's discomfort, Mr. Weasley turned to look at Harry once more.

"It's brought Molly and I more joy than I can ever express watching you grow into the man you are now. We are immensely, unfailingly proud of you. Not for the things you done, not for your accomplishments. But for the compassion and empathy you show, for your strength in pressing on when things are bleak. Your generosity and humility seem never ending. Not that you don't have flaws, you're stubborn and obsessive. But those same qualities help to make you the person you are, and that person is one I'm filled with pride to know. For as long as you want, the Burrow is just as much your home as it is our other children's. You needn't ask to come home."


End file.
